A Sleeping Heart
by Searchingforangels
Summary: Sora and Ventus, in the years before Kingdom Hearts 1. Gen, no slash.
1. Change

_[Conversations with the unseen]_

 _"I heard your voice. It cut through the darkness around me. I_ _followed the sound into a sea of light, and found myself here - with you."_

* * *

Sora's mother did not think much of it when Sora did not hurry down the stairs like he usually did. The four-year-old had been out quite late with Riku, after all, and his endless energy was not quite as endless as he liked to think. Still, she wondered, then worried, as the time approached ten o'clock - Sora was always downstairs by nine.

Just as she was getting up to find him, Sora appeared at the top of the stairs. Something was . . . off. He came down the stairs, not with his usual enthusiastic scramble, but with a aching sorrow that had her hastily putting aside her book and running to meet him. Sora's eyes were half-focused, as if remembering something just out of reach, and there was something weary and inexpressibly heartbroken about his posture.

He stirred, and in the shadow of his movement, she saw an echo of something (someone) else that belonged to far grander things than her young son. Then the shadows blurred, and Sora himself stood as a grander thing.

* * *

 _". . . you gave me back something when I needed it most. A second chance."_

 _"I did?"_

* * *

She dragged Sora into a hug, holding his small frame tight. He jolted, and stared to wiggle protestingly. ". . . smushed," he choked. She let go reluctantly. As she watched, Sora snapped out of whatever half-trance he'd been in, the faint echo of otherworldliness now entirely absent, and started to babble excitedly. "Hey, there was a really cool shooting star last night, and Riku said that all the stars are worlds, and the people on the shooting star must have been going really fast, and-" he paused for breath, "-and I saw this really cool place, and someone was going to sleep, and I helped them, and I was happy and sad at the same time, and RikusaidtomeethimatthesecretplaceagainIpromisetobebackforlunchcanIgothanksbye." With that, he flew out the door, shouting for Riku as he went.

She blinked in confusion. She haven't understood half of the torrent of words, but she knew that whatever bright, heavy shadow had been over his mind had disappeared, at least for the moment. She sat back down with a sigh and a faint smile. Perhaps it had just been Sora waking up in a mood, for once. She would watch him carefully to make sure he was alright, but she would let him handle himself.

* * *

 _"But now, I have to go back to sleep again."_

* * *

She noticed it again when he came back for lunch. He was laughing with Riku, but when Riku left to go to the bathroom, his eyes became unfocused, and he lapsed back into the weary, quiet sadness from before. Somehow, he seemed so much - so much older, if such a thing were possible. The sadness, the weary ache she could feel from halfway across the room, was something no four-year-old should ever possess, and Sora was always so cheerful to begin with. Something had happened. Something massive.

* * *

 _". . . Are you sad?"_

* * *

She kept a close eye on him the rest of the day, but nothing else happened. Or, to be more accurate, "everything in the whole wide world" happened that afternoon, according to Sora, but nothing out of the ordinary took place.

The pattern continued on for several more days. Sora would be his happy, curious, bouncy self whenever he was busy doing something, but when he was still, he would fall back into weary silence. She dearly wished she knew what had come over him.

* * *

 _"Do you mind if I stay here, with you?"_

 _"Sure, if it makes you feel better."_

* * *

Ventus curled up closer to the warm, blinding light that was Sora's heart. He was trying to stay out of Sora's life, he truly was, but it was probably inevitable that some of his feelings would bleed over to Sora. After all, the first time Sora had made contact with his heart, Vanitus had more or less taken Sora's form - a conclusion reached after several hours of puzzling over why Vanitas looked so much like a young boy from a remote ocean world. It made sense, then, that when Ventus made contact with Sora's heart, Sora would be affected.

But, Sora didn't deserve to feel inexplainably sad and hurt - having a shattered heart was rather like breaking yourself over and over again on the jagged shards of what you once used to be. It was not a feeling Ventus wanted to inflict on his young rescuer; even disregarding how Ventus literally owed Sora his life twice over, the boy was just four years old, and no four-year-old should have to cope with such literally heartbreaking pain.

A bitter part of Ventus (was that Vanitas rejoining him? Or did he destroy Vanitas? There was so much he didn't know) thought that he shouldn't have to cope with that kind of pain, either, but he shoved the thought aside. This was no time for regrets. He had said he would do anything to save Terra and Aqua, and it was stupid to feel remorse over doing exactly that.

And yet, he remembered the stars standing watch over the hallowed, bright castle that was his only memory of home, and cried out for the life of innocence lost.

Slowly, he became aware of the stars, the same stars, standing watch over the wide, dark oceans of Destiny Islands, and the ache eased, if only a little. Sora's heart had come, then, and soothed the pain until he could remember what it was like to breathe without loss.

There was so much hope in Sora, so much assurance that everything would be all right, and it was something Ventus desperately needed. He clung to it with every ounce of his being - half a heart, half a weapon, fully a lonely boy - and settled into one of the the quieter corners of Sora's heart. There was a sort of curve to Sora's heart that Ventus slipped into perfectly - it startled him at first, before he realized that just as Sora's newborn heart had dramatically altered Ventus, Ventus's heart was sure to have had a profound impact on Sora. Besides, Sora was the kind of person who always made room in his heart for others, who always had space reserved for anyone who needed his help - and it was help Ventus desperately needed.

Ventus suspected that Sora's heart could stretch much further than a fractured, lost hearts; it could grow to shield entire worlds, given the chance. At least, Ventus hoped it could. With Master Xehenort doing goodness-knows-what, he knew that the worlds would soon need someone like Sora to hold them together and pick up the pieces. The four-year-old was so innocent, so trusting. He knew nothing of the forces building that would rock his world - that would rock the universe - and Ventus could only hope that there would be enough of the worlds left for there to be any remaining pieces to pick up.

And he could do nothing about it. He could only watch and wait, and hope that someday, somehow, he could get home. If he had any home left to go to. (He had seen the shattered remains of home, the broken chains, the abandoned keyblade, and he flinched away from the memory. There was hope. There was always hope. He clutched his Wayfinder until his fingers ached, and tried to pretend that its faint glow was more than his imagination.)

For now, however, he would do everything in his power to make sure Sora would be as safe and happy as one small boy and one shattered soul could manage. It was the least - and the most - he could do.

* * *

 _"Thank you."_


	2. Dreams

Sora was doing better. Or perhaps he wasn't. It was so hard to tell what "better" was when she couldn't figure out what was wrong. She had asked Riku if he had noticed anything strange about Sora recently, but didn't say much - he had seemed on the verge of telling her something, but stopped at the last second. All she had managed to drag out of him was that something might have happened the night he and Sora had stayed up late to watch the stars.

"Please," she had asked, almost begged. "Please tell me, Riku, what happened?"

Riku had just looked at her, with his unnervingly solemn stare, weighing her request in his ageless young eyes. "Do you believe what they say about other worlds?" he asked at length.

"Oh, er, well," she started, thrown by the sudden shift in conversation ( _he's only five_ , she reminded herself. _Only five_ ). "I'm not sure. But about Sora..."

Riku just looked at her, and her voice trailed away. His face showed he both registered and understood her lie. There was something about Riku that was so intense, so solemn. Usually it was just a background hum to his daily antics, but now she was staring at the full force of it in Riku's face.

He stood silently for a while longer before his his face cleared. "Sora thought someone was sad that night, but he seemed fine a few minutes later. That's all I know."

She could tell that there was something he was holding back, and waited patiently. He sighed in defeat. "That's really most of it," he said defensively. "You wouldn't believe the rest."

And that was all she had managed to get out of him. Sometimes she couldn't believe Riku was so young; there was a quiet intensity that drove him far beyond the realm of a normal child.

At any rate, Sora seemed happier. The grief that haunted the edges of his life had dulled down to a sleepy sadness, and Sora was slowly bouncing back from whatever had happened the night of the meteor shower.

* * *

Sometime in the very early morning, she had a dream. It was a very peculiar dream. She stood on a green platform with a sleeping boy superimposed onto the right half of the surface, while other larger-than-life images made up the rest of the platform. It seemed - she searched for the right word - it seemed empty. Stripped. Abandoned, if such a thing were possible. Faint energy pulsed deep underneath the platform (a heartbeat, she realized in a flash of intuition), but it felt sluggish and unresponsive. She stood there for a few minutes, wondering at the strange image.

Abruptly, the image rippled and she caught a brief glimpse of two figures on an ocean blue platform that brimmed bright with energy. And then her dream shifted back into the normal realms of sleep, and the strange vision lay half-forgotten in the back of her mind.

* * *

Sora was changing. It was nothing she was concerned about, quite, but he was acting strangely. He picked up the habit of folding his hands behind his head from goodness knows where. He had better reflexes when he sparred with Riku - not quite enough to actually beat Riku, but enough to dodge the toy sword more often than not, and he developed a bizarre love of the color blue, of all things. She couldn't shake the feeling that something had shifted, but since nothing presented itself as a problem, there was little she could do. Riku wasn't going to talk, and Sora, when pressed for answers, just got a faraway look in his eye and promptly forgot what they were talking about. It was frustratingly effective - Sora and Riku were doing surprisingly well at hiding whatever had happened that night.

* * *

Ventus wondered how much of his behavior was based off of Sora. After all, in just the few days he had been in Sora's heart, Sora had already began to act more like him. That was not good; they were just small things right now, but there was no guarantee this would be the extent of their connection. All of this was happening when Ventus wasn't even part of Sora's heart - he was just taking shelter in it. But Sora was most definitely a part of Ventus's heart. When Sora had come the first time, back when Vanitus had been torn away from him, Ventus had been missing about a third of his heart and was in the process of losing the rest of it. Sora had filled in the missing gaps, and Ventus couldn't help but wonder how much of his heart was really his, and how much of it was actually Sora's light.

His intrusion into Sora's life needed to stop, and soon. He suspected if he continued to linger in the back of Sora's mind, he would eventually become a innate part of Sora. He didn't just want to protect Sora from that - he also wanted to protect himself. He was still holding out hope of being reunited with his body someday, and if he was welded to Sora's heart, he would either be part of Sora forever, or he would cause them both serious damage disentangling himself from the young boy's heart. He knew about ripping part of someone's heart away. It didn't end well for anyone.

* * *

She had another dream that night. The blue platform was suddenly before her, blazing with cheerful symbols. Compared to the green platform, the sheer amount of energy and life pouring off the platform was breathtaking. _Sora_ , murmured something in the back of her mind, and she didn't doubt it.

As she watched, the weak, tired energy of the green platform appeared on Sora's platform and nestled deep inside the blue platform's pulsing light. The tired force stirred, something coming alive inside; she caught her breath as the aching sorrow she had felt from Sora abruptly sprang into piercingly broken life.

She woke up, heart hammering and thoughts confused, rather hysterically wondering if that was what was wrong with Sora. Whatever the green energy was, it had been staggeringly sad. Then she brushed aside the thought. It had been a dream, nothing more. It was too surreal, too otherworldly to be anything else. _Do you believe in other worlds?_ the echo of Riku's voice asked unexpectedly. She paused, then shook her head and intentionally refocused.

She glanced out the window at the sliver of sunlight slowly creeping into the sky; it was probably too late to get back to sleep. She sighed and rolled out of bed, the early island air crisp in the shadows before morning. She decided to check on Sora, just te sure. She didn't know what exactly she was checking for, but given how strangely he'd been acting, it was probably for the best that she kept a close eye on him, even in his sleep.

She walked up to Sora's room and cautiously pushed open the door. The four-year-old was curled contentedly in his bed with a faint smile on his face. She smiled back, even though Sora didn't see it, relieved to see her bright son so peaceful and safe.

She had half-closed the door before she noticed what was in his hand. It was green and seemed to shimmer, half-in and half-out of reality. She crept closer, trying to get a good look at it. It was shaped like a flower, or perhaps a star. Well, flowers weren't green, but neither were stars. Perhaps it was something Sora had made? But no - the object seemed to be created simply enough, but the workmanship was far beyond what impatient four-year-old hands could create.

As the rising sun spilled its first golden ray into Sora's room, the object flickered and disappeared. Sora rolled over with a sigh of content, and she quietly left his room before she woke him. She got the feeling that even if she did wake him up and ask him, he would know as little as she did. It was time to find out what had happened to Sora. There was nothing definite, but all the little things were building up to a picture she could not yet see, one she was half-afraid to understand. She did not know what it was, but it seemed bigger than she had imagined possible.

* * *

Ventus stirred. He had been dozing in Sora's heart, and it seemed to mellow his influence on Sora. Perhaps he should go into a deeper sleep, to kept their hearts safely separate. He clutched his wayfinder uncertainly; the way before him was murky and unsure. Eventually, reluctantly, he fell into uneasy slumber.

* * *

He dreamed he was Sora, and he dreamed he held the strange star of the lonely boy he protected. _I have you now,_ Sora thought easily and earnestly, and at his words, Ventus jerked awake before falling into a sleep far deeper than before.

* * *

 _No, no, that experiment cannot possibly move forward,_ an unknown voice protested. _Master Ansem would never -_

 _Master Ansem is a weak fool,_ an almost familiar voice snarled. _Are you with me or not?_

 _Terra?_ Ventus called out, or tried to, but he was already falling away from the scene. He slipped easily into another dream, and this time, as the ground solidified underneath him, Aqua looked back at him. "Hey, sleepyhead," she said, her voice terribly sad.

"Aqua!" he exclaimed, and threw his arms around her, or tried. She blurred and flickered and briefly disappeared. He withdrew slowly. "Sorry," he mumbled. "Hey Aqua - this is just a dream, right?"

Her tired eyes took in every inch of his face, drinking in the sight like she feared she would never see it again. "Probably," she admitted, and drew a deep breath. "But I hope not. You're - you're okay?" A hesitant question. "You're - you?"

"Yeah," he murmured. "I think so."

Aqua sagged in relief, even as strands of darkness began twining around her. "Good," she choked. "Good. Look after yourself, alright? I probably won't be able to come back for you as quickly as I hoped."

"Aqua?" he called, alarmed. "Aqua!" But she was already gone.

"Look after yourself, too," he whispered to the empty air.


	3. Rafts

She had been rather wary of letting him stay out late with Riku again, considering what had happened last time. However, the growing part of her that seemed to know what was going on - but didn't bother telling her - whispered that whatever happened had not occurred because Sora had stayed up late; it could have happened at any moment.

(She briefly wondered how she knew all this. Perhaps, as Sora's mother, she was connected to the workings of his heart.

...now she was beginning to sound like Riku. Some of his ideas were rather absurd - other worlds, for goodness sake - but perhaps he was on the right track.)

At any rate, she had reluctantly given Sora permission to go outside with Riku. It didn't seem like a particularly good idea to isolate him from everyone just because he was acting strangely.

It wasn't even that Sora was acting strangely, really. He was almost back to normal. He still loved blue, still had better reflexes than normal, but the odd behavior was subsiding - or perhaps she was just getting used to it. Sora did say odd things sometimes, and if his eyes did get a bit glassy when he said them, well, he had been staying up late the past few days, and he was probably just tired.

That was her fault, really. She kept putting off going to sleep, which had inadvertently dragged Sora's bedtime back later and later. She didn't dread falling asleep, precisely, but she didn't look forward to it, either. Every night, she had startlingly memorable dreams that didn't fade as she woke, but instead lingered for the rest of the day. They always centered around the blue and green platforms ( _shattering, breaking, full of darkness, full of light, consumed by shadows, built by love, lost to dreams, on and on into infinity_ ) and they always gave her the aching, helpless feeling that critical understanding stood just barely out of her reach, that if she stretched just a little farther -

\- but she never did manage to touch it completely, and she was beginning to accept that fact. All she knew was that someone was devastatingly sad (heartbroken, actually) and it wasn't Sora, not quite.

She rhought she might be overthinking all this. Sleep deprivation did that to everyone and four-year-olds had mood swings all the time; the only reason it had caught her notice was because Sora was normally so cheerful. Besides, it was hardly like anything terribly significant would happen while Sora played with Riku out on the beach.

(The knowing part of her told her that she was just rationalizing this all away, that something important was happening again, but she dutifully ignored it.)

* * *

Riku studied the sunset lighting up the sky in dusky streaks of red and pink.

"I want to see the outside worlds someday," he confessed to Sora, turning to look at his friend. "I bet they have cooler sunsets."

Sora blinked in confusion. "The outside what's?"

Riku sank back to lean against the low-hanging paopu tree Sora was perched on. "Remember what I said a few nights ago? The night you were sad?"

Sora nodded. "You said that all the stars were worlds, and they were all connected by a great big sky," he recited obediently. "But Riku, how do you know -"

"Don't tell me you can't feel it," Riku said impatiently "This place, these islands, are just so small, and the sky is so big. The Islands can't be all there is. The sky's too big to just have us in it. There has to be more than just - just this." He vaguely waved his hand at the Play Island and the ocean that stretched off into the never ending distance.

Sora thought about it. "I guess," he said, a little doubtfully. "What's wrong with here?"

Riku kicked at the sand, sending up a small cloud of dust. "Nothing's wrong. But nothing ever changes, either. I don't want to spend forever doing the same thing. I want to do something different."

Sora hummed thoughtfully. "So what are the other worlds like?"

Riku shrugged. "Dunno. Haven't been there yet." Sensing Sora was still not convinced, he dropped his voice to a whisper that had Sora leaning in close to listen. "Remember the stories of that man who left the islands a long time ago? He _has_ to have gone somewhere. Don't you see, Sora? There's more than just the islands."

"What was that man called again?" Sora asked, his voice a little strange.

"Um . . . it was weird," Riku said, vaguely irritated that Sora didn't appreciate his dramatics. "I can't remember it right now, but that's not the point. The point is that I can leave too, someday."

There was a lull in the conversation as Sora watched the sunset and Riku tried to think of way to leave the island. Surely a trip that big would need at least a day's worth of food and stuff like that. Maybe he could borrow some food? No, he wouldn't be able to give it back, because he'd be too busy exploring to come back. Could he steal some food? No, he didn't like that, either. Maybe he could just fish instead.

"Xehanort," Sora said suddenly.

" . . . mmmm?" Riku said absently, caught up in the problem of how to bring enough water with him, in case he wound up on one of the "deserts" he had heard about. All sand, no ocean. It was a strange concept.

"The guy who left," Sora clarified. "His name was Xehanort."

Riku snuck a glance at Sora. His eyes had gone glassy, and there was something strange about his face, like he was trying not to cry.

"Hey, are you okay?" he asked. Sora didn't even hear him. He was too caught up in - well, in whatever it was - to notice.

Sora had acted strangely ever since Riku had told Sora to reach out to the sadness. It seemed, as far as Riku could tell, that somehow, the sadness had moved inside Sora. He had the strange feeling that Sora was protecting the sadness, and it came up at rather strange times. It was odd, but then again, Riku was trying to get to somewhere that no one else thought existed. So, he let Sora handle whatever happened in peace. If Sora wanted to tell him, he would.

Still, he did want to make sure his friend was okay. "You okay?" he repeated, a little louder.

Sora startled, then turned to him, a smile growing and an odd light in his eyes. "Yeah, of course, Terra."

Riku frowned. "I'm not . . ."

The strange light disappeared; Sora blinked a few times, as if dispelling a vision. "I thought you looked like someone else."

Riku grunted in acknowledgement, turning his mind back to the matter of getting enough water for his trip.

"Tall," Sora supplied helpfully. "With brown hair and weird pants."

Riku froze. "You met him, too?" he blurted out. There was no way Sora knew that man. He had run past the man with only half a glance the one time Riku had ever seen the man from the outside worlds.

Sora's face grew confused. "I don't know. It feels like he's my best friend, just like you, but I've never seen him before."

" _In your hand, take this blade-"_

 _Another voice laughed. "Who went and made you Master?"_

All right. Enough was enough. "Sora, exactly what happened that night?" Riku demanded.

Sora shrugged. "Someone was sad."

"I know that part," Riku snapped. "What next?"

Sora thought about it. "I dunno, actually," he confessed. "I met someone, sort of, and he was sad. He said he had to go back to sleep, and asked if he could stay with me for a while."

Riku thought about that. "Were they from the outside worlds?" he asked hopefully.

Sora cocked his head. "Yes," he said firmly.

"I thought you said you didn't know if they were real," Riku said with the injured pride of a five-year-old.

"I didn't until you asked," Sora said patiently. "But he was definitely from the outside worlds." He paused. "I think there's a lot of them. Maybe as many as the stars in the sky, like you said. It'd be cool to see them all," he added thoughtfully.

Riku nodded enthusiastically. "You can come with me!" he said, leaping to his feet and pretending to fight off attackers. "We can go off exploring worlds together. I bet there's all kinds of stuff we can do!"

"Yeah!" Sora said excitedly. He paused. "How?"

"We'll sort it out," Riku said firmly. "We'll probably want to wait a few years anyway, because here, people let you do more stuff when you're older. It's probably the same way on other worlds."

"Yeah . . ." Sora agreed, a bit wistfully.

 _"He said to take two grown-ups." he told the other two, his excitement tempered with a tinge of bitterness. Why couldn't he be an adult already? He already had done more than most adults, yet he wasn't even supposed to go to some playground by himself; heck, he wasn't even supposed to leave home without his Master's permission (although by now, that rule was fairly well broken). Why did everyone insist on treating him like a little kid, when-_

"You okay?" Riku asked. "Sora. Sora!" He shoved Sora gently to catch his attention; under his palm, Sora's heart raced like he had just finished a race.

Sora jumped. "Sorry." He laced his hands behind his head like he was calm, like his heart wasn't pounding so fast Riku thought it might try to jump out of his chest. "So tell me about the outside worlds," he said cheerfully, as if he hadn't just asked about that a minute ago.

"I don't know yet, since we have to get there first." Riku reminded him patiently, leaning back onto the paopu tree. "I'm thinking a boat. If you go far enough, you'll get somewhere eventually, and we can fish while we wait."

"Sounds hard," Sora said, agreeably accepting that sailing off the edge of the world would probably get them somewhere else. "I can't build a boat."

"Fine, a raft or something, then," Riku said. "We have years to figure it out, anyways. We'll make something work."


	4. Contact

She had another dream that night. This one was vastly different than the strange dreams of shimmering platforms and energies that had drifted on the edge of her consciousness, a deviation and a culmination of the half-formed knowledge hovering in the back of her mind. Now, she stood in a warm place filled with light streaming from nowhere and everywhere; there were no indication of colors or platforms, although she knew with dreamlike certainty that she stood atop the blue platform.

A shimmering orb of light descended, and she instantly saw in it the change that had come over Sora. It was impossible to tell exactly why, but the orb held the shape of Sora's sadness, and it liked blue (she didn't even know how she knew this. This was such a strange dream. Soon, she would be waking, and-).

The orb was silent, but managed to convey an apologetic air regardless. Frowning thoughtfully, she reached out to the orb; in a blur, her world was filled with stinging sorrow and joy and fear.

 _"Terra, wait -"_

 _A shining castle; nearly empty, now._

 _" . . . and when you catch up to him, he'll . . ."_

 _A man, flickering with a dark aura._

 _"He never trusted you."_

 _A scarred man attacking, chains of light springing from his weapon like knives._

 _"I'm asking you, as a friend . . ."_

 _A tall man and a blue-haired young woman, both comforting, both afraid._

 _"And now! x-blade!"_

 _An abandoned battlefield, filled with strange, rusted weapons._

 _"Idiot. If you destroy it, you own heart will vanish forever."_

 _The green platform, a dark phantom mirrored on its other half._

 _"What's yours is mine!"_

 _A young man, shattering into darkness and light._

 _"I know it's a lonely place, but you're safe here."_

 _A white room, chains running up its sides. A flash of blue - then nothing._

 _. . ._

 _"Hey, can you hear me?"_

She reeled back from the onslaught of images, and the orb drew back a little. "What happened?" she breathed in wonder and concern. (Had that last voice been Sora's? How was that possible?)

The orb flared bright; she got a distinct image of the green platform as the light settled into a young man, smiling shakily. And she realized - not knowing quite how, but knowing with absolute certainty - that this wasn't a dream. This was real. The realization shook her to the core.

"Um," said the young man, glancing down at his feet. "Hello."

She glanced down too, and was unsurprised to find the blue platform underfoot, now with her four year old son superimposed on its surface. "Hello," she said reflexively, abruptly wordless. There was an old man who had traveled beyond the Islands in his youth and returned with weight and sorrow in his eyes, carrying tales of great wars and fractured lands. This young man had the same weight in his eyes, and she didn't know what to do with it. It was undoubtably the sorrow that haunted her son.

"Er," the young man said, awkwardly thrusting out his hand, "I'm Ventus, but you can call me Ven."

She took his proffered hand and shook it. It felt as real as anything. More real, if that were possible, as if he came from a land with more reality about it than the Islands. "I'm Sora's mother," she told him, pointedly emphasizing her son's name. _What have you done with him?_ she didn't ask. "Is Sora alright? Are you alright?" she said instead.

Ventus closed his eyes. "It's hard to explain," he said at length. "I've been hurt badly by - by the darkness. It's hurting Sora, but I'm trying to make it stop." He leaned forward, earnestly distressed. "I really didn't mean to hurt him," he pleaded. "I'm sorry."

She studied him. Wide eyes with echoes of hurt deep in their depths; tousled hair that must have been the despair of his own mother; sorrow that he wore like a cloak. "Alright," she said at length. "How can I help?"

He blinked, nonplussed. "I - you're sure? - I - I need to get back to sleep," he said. "I need your help."

"How can I help?" she repeated, rather hopelessly aware that she was out of her depth. Ventus blinked, startled.

"This is Sora's heart," he said, as if it were the simplest thing in the world, "and you are his mother. You have more influence here than anybody."

The nonmention of her dead husband hurt, as always, but she pushed it aside with practiced ease. "What do I do?" she asked.

Ventus hesitated, then buried his head in his hands. "My master would know," he said, softly enough she wasn't sure she was supposed to hear the words. "I - I don't know."

She didn't know either, but it was the most natural thing in the world to gather up the lost, aching young man in her arms and murmur comfort and rest to him.

"Oh," he said, startled. "That's working. Wait, there's things I need to tell you first."

She let go reluctantly. This was a boy that had forgotten the feel of a mother's touch, and it made her want to hold him tight and never let go.

"Right," Ventus said uncertainly. "Um. Sora is . . . Sora is a very special person. He loves very much, and it's strong enough to fix things that are broken. There's - there's a lot of broken things out there, and someday the worlds might need him. He - he might leave for a while. But I promise I'll do everything I can to keep him safe. And there's a lot of light I can give him," he said, with an ache that shouted of things unspoken.

"Worlds?" she asked hoarsely, focusing on the odd detail to avoid thinking of the larger picture. Sora was going to leave, to a place that was broken and full of darkness. She wanted to gather him, too, in her arms and keep the both of these boys close forever.

"Well," Ventus said, quiet amusement creeping into his words, "Riku's right, really. You wouldn't believe us if we told you."

If she was supposed to believe in the dreams of a five year old then he was correct, but there was still an unmistakable echo of truth in his words.

"How do you know what Riku said?" she asked, focusing again on the smaller detail.

"I'm in Sora's heart," Ventus said slowly, as if still working through it himself, "and we're connected from before, I think. Vanitas certainly looked like - well. Our hearts are very closely connected, and sometimes they - they mix together. That's why I have to go to sleep. To heal, and to stay separate from him. We're too close together right now. I see what he sees, and he dreams what I dream. It's - complicated."

He yawned hugely. "Whatever you did is working. I'm exhausted. Just . . . don't worry about Sora, especially right now. It'll be years before he will be old enough to leave. And I'm not sure he will. But - but if he does, there's more people than you can imagine that he might be able to help. So don't worry," the young man said, "and don't be afraid. The light will always guide him back to where he belongs." He looked at her then, really looked at her and into her. "You see things," he said, "and know things. My friend, Terra, was like that, too. Trust what you know. It will guide you true."

She reached for him - to say something, anything, nothing, she didn't know - but before she could touch him again, he shattered into splinters that faded into the blue of Sora's platform.

And then she woke up.

"Do you believe what they say about other worlds?" she whispered to herself, hesitant to trust in the words of a five year old and the unknown knowledge in her mind, but somehow, unsettlingly, sure.

She wasn't willing to admit the answer yet, but she knew.

* * *

So she wasn't quite surprised when a girl fell out of the sky with no memories and a faintly glowing necklace; she simply wrapped the terrified little girl up in their warmest blanket and murmured soothing comfort to Kairi. That was the girl's name - nearly all she knew, in fact.

"You remind me of my grandmother," Kairi said abruptly, one night. "Will you tell me a story?"

"What do you remember of your grandmother?" she asked.

"That she told me stories," Kairi said, huddled under a stack of blankets. "Will you tell me one?"

So she told Kairi a story of a broken boy chased by the darkness, who found rest with a little boy ("he's just your age, Kairi") and dreamed dreams of worlds beyond the sky. Kairi hummed agreement.

"That sounds right," the little girl said calmly, relaxing for what might be the first time. "Thank you for the story."

Both of them knew it wasn't quite just a story, but both of them were willing to let it be.


	5. Keyblade

Ventus idly summoned his keyblade, holding it up to examine its cracks and scars. The blade seemed to be healing. That was something, at least; the first few weeks, he couldn't even touch it, and when he did manage to get hold of it six months later, it was only after a hard afternoon of wrestling the reluctant keyblade back into existence. The blade itself looked like it had been blasted to pieces, then roughly shoved back together again, with sharp, painful edges scattered randomly across the whole of the keyblade.

Which made sense. Master Eraquas had always taught that the keyblade was an extension and representation of their hearts. Ventus shuddered at the memory of Vanitas shattering into darkness, and at the lingering feeling of his own half-soul shattering into shards of light. His keyblade would surely reflect his (half a) heart, and considering that, it was a miracle that the thing was even holding together. It was mostly Sora's force of will keeping him whole at this point. Sometimes healing meant breaking more, first, and he was all over the place at the minute.

Ventus wished, not for the first time, that things could have gone differently with Vanitas. The x-blade absolutely had to be destroyed, but it had felt so, so right to finally be complete. He hadn't known how much his broken heart had been hurting him until he was finally healed. Had Vanitas remembered what it had felt like, being whole? If so, his actions seemed almost forgivable. Master Xehanort had surely promised Vanitas that he would have a completed heart once he forged the x-blade; it was little wonder Vanitas had acted with such singleminded determination. Ventus himself would give rather a lot more than he would admit to be whole again.

None of this excused Vanitas for setting the Unversed on the worlds and hunting his friends. But - oh, and this confession ached - Ventus might himself go to such extremes if he got desperate enough. Which he had, hadn't he? Vanitas was him.

Vanitas. What had happened? Had he found a heart to shelter him, too, or had he faded into the darkness, as Ventus had nearly faded into the light? Did he live on as a shadow of himself, had he died, or was he simply all the stronger for finally discarding his light half, trapping Ventus somewhere safe but, at least for the moment, inescapable? Sora was the kindest boy Ventus had met, but he certainly didn't see any way out of Sora's heart. (He felt a brief twinge of guilt as he thought of Terra; Terra was kind too, but he wasn't nearly as innocent as Sora. Even before Master Xehanort came, all three of them had seen far more battle and death than any normal child would. Of course, Ventus had forgotten it all after Master Xehanort split Vanitas and him in half, though he was quite certain Vanitas hadn't. Was that why the others treated him like a little kid? Because he was, in a sense, more innocent than the others? Abruptly, it didn't seem as terrible as before.)

Where had he been? Yes, Vanitas. He was so tired, and his attention kept sliding away sideways. He had to focus.

Vanitas might be out there still. It was a slim chance, a shot in the dark, but Vanitas was literal darkness, and Ventus was alive on an equally slim chance. It was possible. And where Vanitas was, darkness would soon follow. If he came here, to Destiny Islands, looking for Ventus to recomplete the x-blade - or just kill him - then Sora was in danger. Far too much danger.

Even if Vanitas didn't survive, darkness was inevitably on the horizon. One of Master Eraqus' main jobs as a keyblade master was to balance the realms of light and darkness, and with nothing to restrain it, the darkness was surely rising. Perhaps, among everything that had gone wrong in the past few days, that had been the most disastrous. He hoped Terra and Aqua were in a position to be able to handle that. Theoretically, Aqua could take up Master Eraqus' job, although she would need extensive training to balance the light and darkness so precisely. Ventus found it painfully ironic that for all his Master's fear of what Ventus might have - and did - become, that alone qualified him to do a better job balancing the light and darkness than Master Eraqus or Aqua were capable of, assuming he and Vanitas could ever come to some sort of agreement.

In all fairness, that was pretty unlikely.

He remembered when he had walked into The Land of Departure, less than an hour after Terra had thrown him through the dark portal, to find the land nearly consumed by darkness. Far more terrifying than the swirling darkness, however, had been the sight of Master Eraquas's keyblade lying alone on the ground. Master Eraqus himself had taught that the only time a keyblade did not return to the invisible link between key and wielder was when the link had been destroyed. And Ventus knew that the link was never broken - unless there was no one to link with. It hadn't been that hard to figure out what had happened.

Of course, he hadn't told any of this to Terra and Aqua when he saw them a few minutes later. Terra surely already knew, and when he saw them talking, faces unusually serious, he could see that Aqua knew as well. But what could he say? If he didn't actually ask if the Master was ... gone ... then in some part of him, it wouldn't quite be real. It couldn't be real. Beaides, he had absolutely needed to tell them about Vanitas, and Master Xehenort hadn't left anyone much time after that.

His thoughts were slipping all over the place again. Why couldn't he focus? Perhaps it would't hurt to rest, just for a little bit. He had been over these thoughts a dozen times, a hundred times, and dwelling on what he couldn't fix did nothing good.

(Unless he could pass the power of the Keyblade along to another boy full of light, the one boy with a chance at standing up against the darkness, the one boy Ventus could actually influence -

No. Despite what he had said to Sora's mother, he quite opposed letting Sora go to the outside worlds. Leaving Destiny Islands would completely throw Sora's life, the life of his sweet little four-year-old that he was already beginning to think of as the younger brother he never had, completely off track and into deep, deep danger. But there was always the chance, and his mother deserved to know what was happening if Sora did get swept away into the wider worlds. WHill he had needed to be reassuring for her, but he had no such reservations for himself.)

He was slipping yet again, this time into dangerous, risky thoughts. A little sleep couldn't hurt. He closed his eyes, and was immediately engulfed in Sora's mind. Sora raced along the beach, Riku a few meters ahead. Riku was laughing, and Sora was complaining about how Riku had a head start, and it was -

* * *

". . . not fair! You cheated, Riku!"

Riku ran past the finish line, his sudden stop kicking up a cloud of sand. "Nope, you're just jealous I won again," he said happily. He noticed Sora's irritated glare and tactfully changed the topic. "Let's go see if Tidus is here yet."

Sora climbed laboriously to the top of the small hill. He looked out at the ocean, sighing dramatically. "Can't see his boat," he shouted down to Riku.

"Let me see," Riku shouted back up, clambering to the top of the hill to stand beside Sora. He looked out, but sure enough, there was no boat and no Tidus. "Guess he got held up," he said, leaning against a nearby paopu tree as Sora hefted himself up to sit beside him on the nearly horizontal tree. They stared out at the water for a while, as if doing so would somehow make Tidus appear.

It didn't.

"My mom says she'll show us how to make charms out of shells if we gather enough," Riku offered a few minutes later.

Sora made a face. "I don't want a shell charm."

Riku hastily played his trump card. "She says that if you make them right, they're magical."

Sora immediately slid off the tree, half-running, half-sliding down to the wave-drenched beach. "Look, Riku, I found a shell! And another one! And another one!"

Riku laughed, following Sora down to the beach at a much slower pace. Sora's enthusiasm was contagious; a few hours later, they had collected an impressive pile of shells, easily enough for a dozen charms.

The two stretched out on the warm sands by the shells, which were carefully arranged close enough to be rinsed clean by the tide and far enough to not be washed away. Sora fell asleep after a few minutes, and Riku let his friend sleep as he sorted methodically through their collection of shells. Rather a lot of them were pink - they looked nice, but pink charms weren't really what island boys wore. Maybe his mom would like them?

Well, perhaps not.

* * *

Ventus stirred. He woke up slowly, unhurried, and calmer somehow. His dreams slipped through his fingers, but he remembered a spiky haired young man, and he remembered seeing Aqua.

He remembered darkness, and he remembered light. Sora had been that light.

And Sora was going to be in danger, no matter what Ventus did. He didn't know much about this sort of Dream, but he had learned from Terra to trust them, and he knew that in his Dream, the darkness surrounding Sora had not been the ordinary sort, the kind that would be found on the islands. Sora, precious, bright-eyed Sora, was headed into darkness.

Deep darkness.

And Ventus had a good deal of light he could give Sora. If the state of his keyblade was anything to go by, then his keyblade was very nearly his heart - and his heart was the light half of the x-blade.

Sora would need that light. Desperately.

He struggled with it, still - it was his dearest wish to protect Sora, not throw him into the growing darkness of the worlds. (Though he ached to throw himself back into the building chaos, regardless of the personal cost). Sora collected shells all the while, humming under his breath and wincing as stabs of hurt and hope came and went. The charms Riku was clumsily trying to demonstrate looked an awful lot like Wayfinders, after all. Sora dozed off, and still Ventus wrestled with the deadly responsibility he might yet transfer to Sora.

And then Sora himself was there, standing right in front of Ventus. "Oh," Sora said. "Hi. You're tall," he added as a cheerful afterthought.

"Er," Ventus said, thrown, "maybe?" Terra was a lot taller than him, but then again, Terra was a lot taller than most people.

Sora, all of three feet, nodded solemnly. "You are. And you're a lot better than before, too," he added. Ventus nodded, by now accustomed to Sora's sometimes radical changes of topic, but still bemused by his sudden apperance. "Hey," Sora said, "what's your name? You didn't tell me last time."

"Oh," Ventus said. What right did he have to impose the weight of worlds on a boy who hardly knew him? "I'm Ventus, but most people call me Ven."

"Ven. VenVen*. I like it," Sora announced, bouncing a bit. "I wondered what your name was, after you came, but I kept forgetting to ask."

"I didn't know if you remembered me at all," Ventus said honestly, still struggling with his decision. He knew what he should do, but it wasn't at all what he wanted to do. And he was hardly a Master, anyways.

"Hmm," Sora said, equally distracted, "not always." He wandered off to examine to mosaic of his heart. "Hey, there's Riku! And mom! And you! And . . ." he trailed off. Ventus shook himself out of his reverie and went to join Sora. "Who's that?" Sora asked, pointing.

Ventus flinched. That was the other reason he wanted to distance his heart from Sora. "That's . . . that's Vanitas. A, um, friend of mine."

"Oh," Sora said. "Is he here too?"

"Um," Ventus said, and changed the topic. "Do you know where this is?"

"Not the beach," Sora said, thankfully allowing the conversation to swing away from Vanitas. "But it feels . . . good. Like home."

"Yeah," Ventus said softly, "I know." He knew more than he wanted. Sora's heart was warm and bright, unlike his own, broken heart. Having an incomplete heart hurt. "This is - well, it's kind of hard to explain. This -" he said, gesturing to Sora's Station of Awakening - "this is a picture of your heart, sort of. A picture of what makes you Sora. Does that make sense?"

Sora nodded easily, and Ventus couldn't bite back the cautious words he had learned since he left the Land of Departure. "How do you know I'm telling the truth?"

Sora blinked. Clearly, this hadn't even occurred to the six year old. And that was the end of it, as far as Ventus was concerned. He certainly wasn't throwing this beloved little boy into a world where he would have to learn to ask such questions far, far too early in his life.

Which was why Sora surprised Ventus so much by answering the question. Apparently, Sora's silence had been thoughtful, not puzzled. "Well," Sora said, stretching out the word, "you're good. And kind. You want to keep me safe. Why would you lie, after all that?"

And Ventus' heart shattered all over again. Sora was clear-sighted and clever and kind. He had to be, for him to know all those things without conscious effort. He could see the true hearts of people, and that was a rare and powerful gift.

But it was more than that. There was a deep need in Sora's voice, a quiet ache that said he saw such things all the time and desperately wanted to reach out to the people around him, to help and to heal. That's why Ventus wound up here at all, wasn't it? Sora was good - powerfully good. The kind of goodness that made the world around him better. The _worlds_ around him better.

He remembered his Dream. A beacon of light in a storm of darkness, and the beacon was Sora.

So be it.

"Sora," he whispered. "I'm sorry. Forgive me."

Sora could read hearts, but not thoughts. "Huh?" the young boy said, deeply confused. And paused. "You're sad again."

Ventus nodded. "Yeah," he whispered. "Yeah, I'm sad again." He went on, his voice clearer and firmer. "Sora, I have a way for you to help many, many people, but if you want it, you'll have to sacrifice a lot. You could get hurt - you might even die. It certainly won't be easy. But you might be the only one I can reach who's strong enough to do this."

Sora nodded many, many times. "Yes! I - I want to help people, and I do help Mom, but I'm too little to do much, like Riku's too little to go exploring. I want to get big, so I can help everyone be happy." He frowned. "But not too big," he clarified hastily. "I don't want to get too old."

This pulled a bittersweet smile from Ventus. "It might make you old too fast," he warned, locking eyes with Sora to ensure the message was inescapably received. "There's a lot of danger that comes with this. You don't have to take it, and that's okay. Do you understand, Sora?"

Sora nodded, once. "I still want it," he said, and their hearts were far too intertwined to Ventus to wonder if Sora was only saying this to agree with him. Sora truly, deeply, wanted to help people, even at such high costs, and Ventus could not help but know it. Sora, for all he was easygoing and friendly, had a core of raw, molten love and fiery compassion that drove him far beyond what most people realized.

For just a moment, Ventus saw another boy in Sora's place - a spiky-haired young man with a keyblade swung over his shoulder. It was undeniably the young man from his Dream, and, now that he got a closer look, it was undoubtably Sora.

Ventus took a deep breath and knelt, the keyblade flaring into existance in his outstretched hand. "Whoah," Sora breathed, awed and fascinated, reaching out, hesitating. "Can I touch it?"

"Yes," Ventus said, his voice miraculously steady; he was in the role of the Master here, and that both frightened and emboldened him. He flipped the keyblade around so that he was gingerly holding the jagged edges of the blade. "Grab onto the handle, and be careful not to poke yourself on the broken bits."

Sora's hand slid slowly and reverently around the handle; as he did so, the Station of Awakening flared into sudden, brilliant light, illuminating the both of them. Ventus took another deep breath and spoke the words that entrusted his keyblade, his heart, his worlds, into the hands of the young boy.

"In your hand, take this key . . ."

* * *

Sora rolled over, startling Riku. "I just had the strangest dream," Sora said, blinking into the light from the setting sun.

"Really?" Riku asked, drying off the last few shells and privately wondering if the dream had anything to do with the way Sora had started glowing a bit. "What about?"

But Ventus was already drifting back to sleep, and Sora was just now drifting awake. "Er," Sora said as the Dream scattered and the memory faded into the far distance. "I don't know." But he looked at one of the charms, then, and the pink shells turned green. "Wayfinders, I think."

"Huh?"

"Friends. It was about friends."


	6. Kairi

Riku and Sora were camping on the Play Island; it was their first night out by themselves, and both boys were terribly excited. Both had been required to pass multiple swim tests - rather perfunctory tests, really, as every child south of the Northern Seas knew how to swim like a fish, but real, official things nonetheless.

Ventus was rather startled that anyone let a five year old and six year old spend a night alone on a camping trip, but Island culture was very laid back and confident, in a way; children were allowed far more free reign than Ventus remembered encountering elsewhere. Besides, Riku was here. Between his family life and peculiar maturity, people could be forgiven for forgetting Riku was only six.

Ventus stirred, rather restlessly, as Sora made shadow puppets in the light of the campfire. These days, he only woke up when something huge happened. What, in this comforting but ordinary scene, could possibly be significant enough to wake him?

As if in answer to his question, the stars darkened. As Ventus anxiously watched a star flicker out of existence, Sora shot to his feet excitedly. "Look, Riku, a shooting star!"

Ventus was not as cheerful. Each star was a world - if a star had just disappeared, a world had just been destroyed. But no, there was the star, back again, if dimmer. And dying worlds hardly turned into comets. He peered at the shooting star, puzzled. What was it?

The shooting star continued its descent, but Ventus, fully expecting it to fade away into the sky, largely ignored it in favor of puzzling out the strange situation. However, the shooting star only grew brighter, transforming into a thundering rush of light that began illuminating the dark beach with white-hot flame; it seemed to be aimed straight at Sora, and Ventus felt as Sora's heart throbbed uncomfortably. It was as if the shooting star were actually gravitating towards Sora, pulling itself across the vast, deep sky to reach him.

The column of light swerved at the last minute, crashing into the water with a splash. After only a moment's pause, Riku and Sora scrambled into the water after it. The light faded, revealing - a girl. A red-haired girl, blinking in confusion. Around her neck was a simple necklace, glowing with the same light that had carried her here.

The light from the necklace seemed strangely familiar; he couldn't place quite how. But it could wait for later - goodness knows he had plenty enough time for it. For now, the strange girl was more important.

"Um," said Sora, staring at the girl in the water. "She's a girl."

"Other worlds," Riku said softly, reverently. The girl sneezed, and both boys jumped, snapping back to the present rather rapidly.

"Er," Riku said, tapping the girl's shoulder gingerly. "Do you want to get out of the water?"

No response.

"Hey!"

Nothing but shivering from the girl.

"Ok, Sora, you take that side of her," Riku said, only a little unsteady. "I'll take this side and - pull!"

The two boys rather awkwardly dragged the red haired girl onto the dark, dry beach. She stirred a little, but made no effort to help. Not that this deterred Sora in the least. "Hi!" Sora announced cheerfully, leaning over her. "I'm Sora. Who are you?"

Ventus rolled his eyes rather fondly. Sora really wasn't fazed by anything, not even mysterious girls falling from the sky. Then the girl blinked up at Sora, and Ventus caught his breath. Her expression was rather too familiar- blank and exhausted, with dull, hazy eyes. What in the worlds had happened? It looked like the girl had completely lost her memory, if Ventus was any judge.

The girl struggled for an answer. ". . . Kairi." she managed at last.

Sora beamed, relief mixed with bafflement. "That's a pretty name. Where did you come from?"

At this, Kairi's face twisted in pain and confusion; after a moment's struggle, she sighed and abruptly slumped, unconscious.

Oh, this was most definitely memory loss. Ventus couldn't even begin to count how many times Terra, Aqua, and the Master had recounted how he had arrived in the Land of Departure in basically the same state. He concentrated and vaguely sensed light from the girl. A lot of it. Relaxing, assured of plenty of mystery but no danger, he began, rather unwillingly, sliding back to sleep. He dearly wanted to see how things played out, but he was so, so tired, still.

Compromising, he dropped his dreams into Sora's waking memory. If he couldn't watch things directly, he could at least dream of them. His last waking thoughts were puzzled, bordering on urgent; Kairi seemed to have the mark of the Keyblade - how in the worlds had that happened?

* * *

Riku watched Sora panic. "No! Nonono!" Sora shook the girl, gently at first, then more roughly, but Kairi didn't respond.

Riku quickly stepped in, tugging at Sora's hands. "Stop, you'll hurt her!"

Sora let go slowly, still shaky. "Is she dead?"

Riku, ever practical, leaned over and poked the girl in the ribs. Hard. She moaned. "Nope," Riku said. "Listen, you wait here and I'll get help."

"No! Stay here, Riku. What if she . . . she wakes up or something?" Sora said, panic creeping back into his voice.

Riku shrugged, a brief, terse, adult movement. "We need help, so one of us has to row back to the mainland, and I'm faster than you."

Normally, Sora would have argued that point. Tonight, he simply nodded. Riku laid a calming hand on Sora's shoulder. "If she wakes up, tell her help's coming soon." Sora nodded again, and Riku dashed off.

He dragged their boat over to the edge of water, throwing the overnight supplies out onto the sand to lighten the load and shoving the now-light boat into the water. Hurriedly, he grabbed the child-sized oars, dug them into the water, and began the half-mile journey back to the mainland.

* * *

Panicked banging echoed through their small house. Hurriedly, she rolled out of bed and, half-asleep, yanked open the door. Had something happened to Sora? Her worries seemed confirmed when Riku, teetering between panic and exhaustion, greeted her with a torrent of words that centered around a light and Sora being upset.

"Slow down," she instructed, kneeling beside Riku. "Riku, slow down. Deep breaths."

Riku gulped in several shuddering breaths, a trace of his usual calmness resurfacing after the fifth or sixth attempt. Sometimes, Riku was so different from the other children that it was hard to remember he was so young. Now, though, it was abundantly obvious. He must have stayed calm for Sora, but began panicking before he arrived here.

"That's it," she soothed. "There you go. Deep breaths. Take a moment, then tell me what happened again. Slowly, this time."

Riku exhaled slowly and, just like that, collected himself again. He was far too good at that, the quieter part of her noticed. "We were on the beach and there was a comet, and there was a girl inside it. She says her name is Kairi, but then she fell asleep and she won't wake up."

The end of the sentence strained against his control. "Alright," she said, taking the words at face value. For this hour of the night, it was remarkably coherent. "Wait here, I need to get some outside clothes on, and I'll bring an extra blanket for the girl. Was she hurt?"

Riku silently shook his head. "Okay, I'll be right back." She snatched her coat off the hook and, drawing the heavy fabric around her nightclothes, went back to the bedroom to fetch a blanket and the first aide kit. It never hurt to be prepared. "Right," she told Riku, tucking the kit under her arm as she hurried out. "Let's go."

They made for the empty docks. "Was I the first person you checked with?" she asked quietly, deliberately shortening her stride so Riku could catch up.

Riku's silhouette nodded minutely. "Mom's out of town this week. And - and Dad's gone again."

"Okay," she said, and pointed. "Did you row in on that boat?" Of course he had. The boat she indicated was the boat the two boys had rowed to the island in earlier, and they both knew it. But Riku nodded in relief, grateful to move on to a different topic.

"Yes."

"We'll need a bigger one to fit the girl and me," she said. "I'll take the _Seastar_. Riku, go run and get Padi and Laka and Heyone. Tell them what you told me, then take them to where your camp is. I'll be there with Sora and Kairi."

Riku nodded jerkily. "I will." He took a deep breath, spun on his heel, and took off like a shot for the village.

She rowed the short distance to the children's camp she had helped set up mere hours ago, careful to steer clear of the shallows. A girl from the stars. Somehow, she couldn't bring herself to doubt it.

* * *

"-just this way," Riku said, squirming through the underbrush to their campsite, not bothering to wait for the three men to catch up. When they had made camp that afternoon, they had picked a small, hidden spot. It was perfect for two, small boys; they hadn't known to make space for a girl, Sora's mother, and three men from the village.

Sora sat by the water's edge with Kairi, who now had a heavy blanket around her shoulders. ". . . says there's other worlds out there. Maybe you came from there!"

Kairi shrugged, still looking small and still. "Mmmmm."

"It's really nice here!" Sora promised. "There's Riku, and Tidus, and - hi, Riku! Kairi woke up!"

"Hi," Riku offered, wandering over as the three men emerged from the tangle of trees and branches and held a quiet conference by the sleeping mats. "I'm Riku."

"Hi," Kairi said shyly. Her voice trailed off for a moment, but she caught the end of it. "I'm Kairi."

Riku opened his mouth to ask about her shooting star, but right then, all the adults decided to converge on the trio. "Hey there, Kairi," Laka offered gently. "We're going to take you back to my house so you can get some rest, and we can talk in the morning. Sound good?"

Kairi nodded, pulling the blanket tighter around her shoulders. Laka scooped her up, blanket and all, and headed for the boats. "I'll contact you tomorrow morning," he said over his shoulder. "Padi, a hand with the boats?"

Padi hurried after him, leaving the rest of the group to thoughtful silence.

At length, Sora's mother nodded decisively. "Well, that's that. We'll see what comes of it tomorrow. I want to talk to you both," she said, pointing to both boys, "but right now, it's time for bed."

"I guess our camping vacation is over?" Riku asked resignedly. Beside him Sora slumped, disappointed.

She nodded. "Unfortunately, yes. I want to keep an eye on you two tonight; there's been enough excitement already without adding to it. Riku, come stay at our house tonight. You and Sora can have a camp out on the back porch."

"Okay!" Sora exclaimed, recovering magnificently. He turned to his mother, anxious. "If something happens to Kairi, will you get us?"

"Yes," she promised. "Now, let's get your sleeping mats. We can clean up the rest of the stuff tomorrow. Heyone, would you mind helping with the mats?"

"Sure," the sleepy giant responded. "Anything else?"

Sora's mother took one, last look at the campsite. "No, that should be it. Thank you."

Soon, there was nothing left but a few camping supplies and a pile of equipment where the boat used to be.

* * *

"I like Kairi," Sora announced, rolling over on his newly arranged sleeping mat to face Riku. "She's nice."

"You've known her for five minutes," Riku objected.

"I like her," Sora repeated stubbornly.

Riku rolled his eyes. "Alright, alright. Do you want to see her tomorrow?"

"Yes, don't you?"

"Yes," Riku admitted. Then, after a short silence, "Do you think she knows anything about the outside worlds?"

"I dunno."

"Me neither."

Sora hummed contentedly. "Would three people fit on a raft?"

"Of course they would," Riku said condescendingly. "You'd just build a bigger raft." Then Sora's meaning caught up with him. "Hey, wait, when did Kairi get on our raft?"

"Now," Sora said. "She's lonely, and I like her."

"Mm-hm," Riku said, watching the stars. "Like-her like her, or paopu-fruit like her?"

"I - wait - hey! Riku!"

"Yeah, she can come on the raft," Riku agreed. "It'd be nice, having another person to explore with."

"Oh," Sora said, still recovering. "Okay."

* * *

Four years. Four whole years. Four long years of watching Terra and Aqua dance awkwardly around the topic. Perhaps this was premature, but Ventus was sick and tired of watching two people who liked each other avoid the discussion.

Even if said people were five year olds, and the liking was hardly romantic. Yet.

Oh, he had spent far too long being frustrated by this. He was seeing it everywhere.

And yet.

Overnight, Sora became miraculously good at handling people with broken memories. He knew where to push, where to let it go, and possessed just enough five-year-old tact to get away with it.

Some people just needed a good push in the right direction, and Ventus was quite happy to shove. Dreaming hard, he summoned up every memory of those early days and rather insistently pointed them towards Sora's sleeping mind.

It seemed to be working. Kairi was soon a regular member of small team, and life continued happily forward. Kairi adjusted, with Riku and Sora and Ventus' help, then flourished. The girl from the stars took quite well to the beach, and Sora and Riku took quite well to her.

Ventus decided he quite liked being able to do something useful. Content and vaguely smug, he slipped down deeper, back into dreamless sleep.

* * *

(It took a long time for him to realize. Too long. Aqua. The necklace reminded him of Aqua.)

* * *

 **If you are rereading this fic, you might notice that Sora and Riku are five and six instead of seven and eight, and this chapter switched places with the next one. That's because, as FlightfootKeyseeker pointed out, it makes more sense in canon.**


	7. Promises

_"What's yours is mine!"_

 _Keyblade clashed. Ventus grit his teeth and tried to hold his ground, but slowly, unavoidably, crumpled under Vanitas' rage._

 _Swords clashed. Sora grit his teeth and tried to hold his ground, but slowly, unavoidably, crumpled under Riku's weight._

Ventus snapped to alertness with a gasp.

Oh.

It was just Sora and Riku.

Very slowly, he began to relax.

* * *

Riku grinned as Sora stumbled backward. "I win," he crowed, swooshing his sword triumphantly.

"...not...fair...you're too...big." Sora gasped, pulling a face.

Riku laughed easily. "Come on, Sora! Giving up already?"

"No!" Sora half-gasped, half-shouted. The intimidating effect was rather ruined when he plopped down to sit in the sandy beach, arms folded comfortably behind his head. "Taking . . . a break," he added with an infectious smile. Riku laughed again, breathlessly, and sat down next to him. They sat in silence for a few minutes, Sora audibly catching his breath, and Riku, hopefully less audibly, also catching his. Sora didn't seem to realize how _fast_ he could be when he put his mind to it, and sometimes., it was a real struggle to keep up.

Sora kicked at the sand, a little dejectedly, when something nudged the back of his memory. Well. Not quite his memory. Ever since he could remember, ideas or feelings sometimes came that weren't quite his. Sometimes, he remembered it was Ventus. Other times, he forgot. Today was a remembering day, though, and he hummed happily, cheerfully accepting the memory that bubbled to the top of his mind. Ven always had good ideas.

 _"Come on Ven, you almost had him! Just try it again."_

 _"Hey wait, you're teaming up now?"_

Sora, ever enthusiastic, scrambled back to his feet, absently brushing sand off his pants. "Hey, want to try again?" he offered. Riku nodded, taking a few more gulps of air before grabbing his blade and following suite.

There was really no way around the fact that Riku was the stronger and more athletic of the two. Riku had Sora down again fairly quickly.

"Bother," Sora said glumly.

"No, wait, you're getting better," Riku said, half in encouragement, half so he wouldn't lose his sparring partner. "Try that thing you did just there, where you sort of rolled. That was good."

Sora, rather dubiously, got into ready position again. "Aaaaaaaaand-" Riku said, drawing out the word, "aaaaaaaand onetwothreego!"

It wouldn't be a proper match if it didn't start that way. Sora dodged, backed up, backed up again, and oh, there was the ocean. He dodged again. He was faster, but Riku was still winning. Bother, bother, bother.

 _"You're trying too hard to move your body. You need to learn to let your body move you, right?"_

"Ha!" Riku said, swiping a hit while Sora was distracted. Sora yelped and glared, dropping his wooden sword in order to clutch his side.

"Er, sorry," Riku offered. "I didn't think it would hit so hard."

"Ow-ow-ow," Sora hissed. "Cura!"

"Huh?"

"It hurts," Sora said, unnecessarily.

"Sorry."

"Let your body move you," Sora said experimentally, dropping down to sit on the sand.

"Um, did I hit your head, Sora?" Riku asked, a little cautiously, wondering what in the world Sora was talking about. "I'm sorry if I did," he added quickly.

"Nope!" Sora announced, rubbing his side. "Let's go again." He paused, wincing. "In a few minutes."

"Okay," Riku agreed, leaning against the paopu tree.

"Body move you, body move you," Sora mumbled. "Huh."

At length, they took up their positions again. Riku started forward like normal, but instead of dodging, Sora surprised him by rushing straight at him. Riku barely got his blade up in time; Sora promptly seized the opportunity to whack at Riku's knees. Riku yelped, slashing wildly, but Sora was already gone. Sora was moving strangely well, now - lighter on his feet, more balanced, less clumsy.

Well, if Sora kept this up, maybe they could have longer matches. That sounded like fun. They fought a few minutes more, but Sora's side still ached, and Riku's throbbing knees quite wanted a break. In the end, it was Sora that landed the final hit; both boys promptly flopped on the sand, any pretense of invulnerability dropped immediately.

"Let's...do something else...for a bit," Riku suggested between gasps, and Sora rather fervently agreed.

* * *

So Sora was a beginner. He was six - it was to be expected. But sometimes it grated how very, very unskilled the boy was compared to Terra or Aqua, or even himself. Granted, Ventus had no idea if he even knew how to hold a keyblade when he was six, so perhaps he was being overly harsh; when Master Eraqus started teaching him, it was evident Ventus already had a few years of training behind him, but exactly how much, no one could say.

Well, it was fun, even if there wasn't much finesse beyond bash-your-friend-with-a-toy-sword. Oh, well. He turned his attentions away from Sora and towards his own heart. He had been asleep for a good while, now, and the healing was evident. Shattered pieces tenuously reformed, cracks narrowed, light pulsed instead of flickered. Good. Very, very good.

The other good news was that no real danger had triggered his awakening. It had just been the odd combination of Sora's anxious exhilaration timed with Ventus' nightmare that has dragged him awake - if Riku had attacked at any other time, Ventus would still be asleep, but his tired heart had mistaken Riku for Vanitas and reacted accordingly. Actually, Riku reminded him less of Vanitas, and more of Terra - slow, strong attacks, and overwhelming force, which was what triggered all his memories of sparring with Terra.

Sora, ever quick on the uptake, had managed magnificently well with the memories, all things considered. For a few moments, he hadn't been fighting as a eight year old, but as an almost-master. No wonder Riku had a bruised knee. Now the two were at it again; Ventus laughed at Riku's expression as Sora meticulously replicated his kneecap attack and whopped Riku's already bruised knees with another well-aimed strike. Poor boy.

It was probably the first time he had laughed like that in years. Or, well, however he was supposed to measure time here, which was a rather challenging question. Terra, in his oddly serious way, had always made him laugh, but it had been ages since he saw Terra, and his stomach twisted uncomfortably as he remembered how Aqua and he had gotten stuck at the base of the cliff, leaving Terra to Xehenort. ( _Master_ , Vanitas' memory whispered. _Not my Master,_ he snarled back.) Terra would be okay - wouldn't he?

The last of his amusement faded as he considered Terra. Terra, who'd let him Inherit his old training keyblade. Terra, who'd always been there to help people out.

Terra, who had left without an explanation, and come back nearly a different person, just like Vanitus had promised. What had happened? He dearly hoped Terra was all right, wherever he was. But why in the worlds did Terra left The Land of Departure so suddenly? In hindsight, the entire disaster might have been avoided if Terra had just stayed put.

But The Land of Departure wasn't Terra's prison, only his -

No. He would not call his only home a prison, no matter the truth of it. His Master had been trying to protect him, after all. Still, hadn't Terra ever thought of taking Ventus with him? After all, they'd all promised they would never be separated. He laughed softly, a laugh devoid of its previous joy. That particular plan hadn't exactly worked out well.

* * *

"Almost had me," Riku panted cheerfully. "Want take a break?"

"Yeah," Sora said, also struggling to breathe properly. They sagged, nearly simultaneously, onto the sandy shore.

"Hey," Riku said after a few minutes, "let's see who can collect the most shells without standing up."

Sora grabbed two nearby shells, stuffing them in his massive pockets as he scooted farther down the beach.

"Five!" Riku announced triumphantly, holding up the proof. "Beat that, Sora. . . oh, no, not again." Sora, vacant-eyed, stared sightlessly back. He hadn't done this in years; Riku thought it was over and done with, but apparently not. "Sora!" he called, scooting over to Sora. "Sora, snap out of it!" he ordered, briskly shaking Sora's shoulder. That usually did the trick. Sure enough, Sora's blinked, shook his head, and opened his mouth. Here it came. Riku braced himself; Sora always said strange things after this sort of thing happened.

Sure enough - "Terra. No. Riku. Riku!"

"I'm right here, Sora," Riku said patiently.

Sora leaned in and grabbed Riku's arms, urgent and afraid. "Riku, promise you won't ever leave here without me."

"Promise," Riku said promptly, unsuccessfully attempting to pry off Sora's hands. "Let go, that hurts."

Sora let go slowly. "I really mean it, Riku. You've got to promise."

Riku nodded, a little shaken by Sora's intensity. "I promise. But you know I'd never leave you behind!" he added, a little indignantly.

"When we leave the Islands," Sora insisted, "we've got to go together."

"Alright," Riku said solemnly. "We'll go together, to the end of the worlds and beyond. I promise."

Sora relaxed, satisfied. "Good." His eyes brightened, and he was fully Sora again. "Remember that promise!" Sora scolded, lighthearted but serious. "You can't up and forget it on me."

"Nope," Riku reassured him, standing. "I won't." He glanced around. "It's getting late. We need to go back soon."

Sora grinned. "One more time?" he challenged, reaching hopefully for his sword.

Riku snatched his sword from the damp sand, grinning. "You're on."


	8. Wayfinder

Ventus sleepily peered out of Sora's eyes, laughing quietly. The "danger" was past; Sora was up late and startled easily, which was probably why the tiny sand rabbit had scared him badly enough to wake Ventus. Sometimes, Ventus forgot that Sora was only eight.

Sora flopped back onto his bed, calming himself with the familiar starry sky. Ventus, however, was not so calm, nor was the sky so familiar. Day by day, many might not see a difference, but watching the sky like Ventus did, once every few years, it was alarmingly obvious that many stars were missing or dimmed.

Darkness was spreading fast.

He had seen the sky three years ago, when Kairi arrived. Before that -

-he had been with Terra and Aqua, and none of them had known anything about what was about to happen. That had been their last night together before the worlds turned upside down.

He pulled his Wayfinder out of his pocket, rubbing his fingers along the metallic edge - had it been the real Wayfinder, he was sure he would have worn out the metal by now. It still surprised him, sometimes, that a memory of it had followed him here, but it had been Aqua who made it. She had promised it would bind them together, and he should have known that she probably backed up those words with magic. If this was what he suspected - a tangible manifestation of their unbreakable connection - then it would be a bit more than just a trinket.

Ventus missed Terra and Aqua terribly. He missed the Master, too, achingly so, but even after four years, he was still trying to work out how he felt about what had happened between them, in the end, with Master Eraqus trying to kill him and Ventus resistingacceptingpanicking-

Ventus missed his friends. He knew he was now more keyblade master than apprentice - Aqua and Terra only had to fight balls of darkness, but Ventus had fought the darkness in his heart incarnate and won - but he still felt terribly like a child, sometimes. He wanted Aqua to be here and murmur it was alright, Terra to throw him over his shoulder, ignoring all protests, and take off for the main hall, he wanted -

He wanted to go home.

Sora's heart flared greeting and, with a sigh, he accepted the proffered warmth, fingers digging painfully into his Wayfinder. Wave after wave of light pulsed over Ventus, and slowly, carefully, he let himself relax into it. After a time, he fell into a light, uneasy sleep.

* * *

"Sora!" Riku said, sharp with irritation. "Hey, Sora!"

Sora shook his head, clearing away whatever was distracting him. "Yeah?"

"You weren't listening," Kairi explained, her head bent over the half-finished shell charm. "Not for a long time."

"Oh. Yeah. Sorry," Sora said distantly, absently watching the waves roll in and out.

Riku, watching quietly, filed the fleeting moment where Sora had looked like a blond-haired stranger as yet another proof of something more out there. "Are you sure everything's all right?" he pressed.

"Yup!" Sora said brightly, and Riku let the moment drop. "I don't get how you do that, Kairi," Sora continued, clearly trying to change the subject. "My shells never work out that way."

Kairi made a face. "It's not that hard. If you get shells, I can show you."

"Sure," Sora said, climbing to his feet. "C'mon, Riku!"

"Now?" Riku asked, startled. "You know I'm no good at those."

"Yup, let's go!"

And that was how Riku found himself rummaging around on the beach for sandy, half-hidden shells. He surveyed his pile carefully. Most were more pink than red, but there were also some good, blue shells in the stack. Sora and Kairi cared much more about this project than he did, but he went along with it to please them.

Well, that was probably enough shells for now. Shrugging, he wandered over to Sora, who was rummaging around in the shallow water for more shells. "Yuck," he said as he glimpsed Sora's shells. "Sora, those are all slimy. You can't use those."

Sora shrugged absently. "Can too."

"I guess," Riku said doubtfully. "But they're gross. There's stuff growing on them. Look, I'll let you have some of mine," he added generously.

Sora straightened, looking strangely determined. "No," he said, quiet but firm, clutching the algae-covered shells tightly enough that Riku wondered if they would break. "They have to be green."

"Alright," Riku agreed, shrugging, then wandering back to his own (clean) shells. Maybe he try to make a pink charm for Selphie. She seemed to like that kind of thing.

* * *

"And then you weave it under, like this-" Kairi said, and Riku tried, he really did, but the shell snapped under his fingers and he threw it to the ground with a sigh.

"I told you I was no good at this," he complained.

"I think you almost had it," she said optimistically. "Try again."

Beside him, Sora grinned, holding up his collection of shells loosely tied together with string. "Look, Kairi, I got all the shells in!"

"Oh," Kairi said, clearly trying not to laugh. "Remember how you have to knot it?"

Sora's face fell. "Oh, yeah."

They all worked valiantly in silence for a time, although Riku suspected that only Kairi really got anywhere.

"Bother," Sora said glumly. Riku looked up in time to see the last shell slide slowly off the string.

"Clean them off and they won't slip around," he advised.

Sora glared. "No."

"Okay," Riku said, hastily ducking his head and returning to his own fruitless task.

In the end, only Kairi managed to make anything recognizably charm-like. Sora cheerfully displayed his small bundle of slimy shells while Riku gave up, borrowing Kairi's finished one instead. "Look, this can be for all of us, to connect us and stuff," he said diplomatically. He inspected the star carefully. "If that's the case, you'd better add a smile to it," he added, "seeing how Sora's in the group."

"Why did you have to say me?" Sora complained. "It's not like neither of you smile."

"Yeah, but you smile the most."

"Do not!"

"Do too! Look, you're smiling right now."

"So are you!"

Kairi laughed as the two boys bickered. "What connects us all," she said quietly. "I like it."

* * *

Ventus watched as Sora placed the childishly made green star on the top of his dresser, in the place of honor. He laughed a little, and cried a little, and afterwards, he felt much, much better.

Since the green star was meant for connections, it showed up on Sora's Station of Awakening beside Ventus a few minutes later. Ventus carefully took the fragile bundle in his hands, holding both Wayfinders close, and almost immediately dropped off into deep, deep sleep.

He dreamed of years past, where Aqua laughed and Terra grinned and the Master watched, quiet and approving, as the stars gleamed and the world spun on towards dawn.


	9. Growth

Years passed. Sora grew, both physically and otherwise. Ventus watched, vaguely aware, as the years blurred by. His dreams were consumed with memories of Sora, but when they weren't . . .

He didn't know what many of his dreams meant.

He dreamed of a plain, an empty plain, an ordinary plain. He blinked and the Keyblade Graveyard superimposed itself over the scene, devastatingly empty-yet-not; he knew some of these keyblades as intimately as he knew himself. How could this have happened? It -

\- was night, and he was so, so broken. He felt himself falling to pieces, falling apart, but could do nothing, feel nothing, be nothing. He stared blankly out, numbly allowing himself to be wrapped in a white sheet and lifted, almost gently, by -

\- the flame haired man. "Careful, Roxas," he said, lighthearted but not. "We can't have you hurting yourself, now can we?" Confused, he opened his mouth to say -

"-what will Master Ava think about all of this?" Another boy, sitting companionably beside him, shrugged slightly and said -

 _"-he will be the one to open the door."_

Ventus cried out as another piece of his heart snapped back into place.

* * *

The years changed many things, but some things never changed. Sora came banging down the stairs, as enthusiastic and tousle-headed as ever, and made for the kitchen counter. She made a useless, absentminded swipe at his hair, sticking every which way, and he deftly dodged.

"Mom!" he protested, and yes, it was a hopeless attempt, but it was also a well-worn ritual she had no intention of surrendering any time soon.

"Wash your hands," she said, firmly and temporarily shoving a few of the more rebellious pieces of hair back into place. "Then -"

"Then breakfast," Sora finished, hurrying to the small sink. He washed his hands, bolted down breakfast, and was halfway out the door before he remembered to say, "I'll be on the Play Island again today, Riku has this really cool idea for the raft."

"Hmm. Is your homework done?" she reminded gently.

He made a face. "Mom, it's summer vacation! We'll do it later! Promise!"

"Be careful," she warned, sipping her tea. "Summer flies by before you know it, and then school starts, but no homework's done."

"Tomorrow," Sora promised. "We'll definitely do it tomorrow." He hovered anxiously, hoping.

"Alright," she acquiesced, laughing a little. "Go on."

Sora beamed and flew out the door.

She leaned back pensively. Sora was so very different from that one night, so long ago. No hidden sadness, no strange behavior, only Sora. In many ways, she still saw her dear four year old, matured and refined.

In other ways, she was beginning to see someone new.

No, that wasn't quite right. It had always been there, but just as a raw block of wood cannot reveal the sculpture inside, she hadn't been able to see the way the future would carve Sora's heart.

Something rough, raw, and new was emerging. Something that took Sora's compassion and turned it into an active, living entity that guided him toward others in need.

And she knew - she had given up pretending she didn't - that it had to do with the sorrow Sora perpetually carried inside him. She had feared it would carve his heart out, but instead, it had helped carve him into everything he was today, continued to carve him into everything he could become.

Many people, she knew, looked at Sora and saw only his casual, cheerful side, the relaxed contrast to Riku's ever-so-serious nature.

Only a few saw beyond that. She only caught glimpses, and suspected that she still saw more than Sora himself, but that core of unyielding compassion, even when naive or misguided, was quietly and undeniably asserting itself as the dominant force in Sora's life. And to accompany it, to mirror and to magnify, was Sora's remarkable gift for truly seeing the true nature of others. The dual gifts often went unacknowledged, hidden under his carefree laugh and lighthearted teasings, but were in full force every minute of every day - an inner strength that revealed itself in quiet glances where should only have been bafflement, laughter that could immediately defuse situations, and a understanding that defied his age.

These things had done for Sora what the idea of other worlds had done for Riku; it had made him wise, in a quiet, indescribable way.

She knew what that looked like because she had seen it before in the lost, quiet boy inside Sora's heart. It was rare she remembered him these days; she had tried everything she could think of to remember him, but her scraps of notes and hurriedly scribbled drawings were useless when she forgot why she has created them, or what they could possibly represent. This must have been the first time in years she had thought of Ventus.

Somehow, the thought of a boy that wandered in and out of memory was far less unsettling than it had been all those years ago. Far more urgent was his warning that Sora might one day disappear. It had never seemed to apply to Sora; he had been young and carefree, special to her in every way, but no wanderer, the children's raft aside. And that had always been a vivid daydream, nothing more, or so she had always told herself.

But now Sora was older and wiser and he was carving himself into someone who would leap into danger to save others. And she was afraid. Prophecy seemed to swirl around her nearly as much as it did Ventus, and she knew, deep down, in ways she could no longer deny, that there had been more than a shadow of truth to his words.

The door banged open and Sora burst in, breathless. "Bandaids," he gasped, grabbing the box from its place near the front door and spinning in his heel, back out the door in a flash.

She wondered who it was, this time, that had a mishap with Riku's sword. Odds were good that it was either Tidus or Wakka, with their beginner's talent and enthusiasm. She'd have considered the possibility of Sora hurt again, had he not seemed just fine in his whirlwind stopover.

Would Sora be hurt? she wondered vaguely, then wondered at the thought. Why should Sora be hurt? He had seemed happy enough coming in the door.

Something deeper. More dangerous. What could it be?

 _Oh,_ she though desperately, clinging to the last, fading scraps of remembrance. _I'm forgetting again._

* * *

Regardless, the lingering worry ensured that Sora received a thorough examination for cuts and bruises when he wandered back in the late afternoon.

He was fine. There was no need to worry.

None at all.

Still, the persistent need to hold him close endured.


	10. Heartbeat

_A nightmare of shattered hearts and broken dreams. Clashing blades and screams of pain and blood, blood, everywhere._

Sora shot awake, heart pounding.

* * *

The doctor frowned, his hand resting easily on Sora's chest. "I can't understand it. He's perfectly healthy; the sea air does wonders for the body, and he gets plenty enough of that. But his resting heart rate is very eccentric. If I didn't know better, I would say I'm feeling two heartbeats at once."

Sora's mother frowned. "What does that mean?"

"I don't know," the doctor admitted. "I'm inclined to wait and see. Make sure he gets plenty of sleep, and let him play around in the ocean. The cold water may do him good. Come back in two weeks, and I'll take another look."

"All right," she said, and smiled at her son. "Thank you so much for everything. Let's go, Sora."

Sora slid off the bench. "You don't need to worry," he informed her, running ahead to push open the heavy glass door. "It's just him."

"Him?" she questioned, but Sora was already out the door, and by the time she caught up he had forgotten what they were talking about.

* * *

 _Sorry,_ Ventus thought guiltily, still riding the cresting terror of the dream, cautiously and rather unsuccessfully trying to disentangle himself from Sora's waking memory.

* * *

Sora grinned as his heart started beating wildly. "Race?" he offered. Riku rolled over with a good-natured grin.

"Thought you were tired of me beatin' you," he said with just a hint of a challenge.

Sora laughed. "Me? Tired?" He sprang to his feet, Riku close behind. "To the dock and back," he shouted, and then he was off, sand flying under his shoes. He raced across the water's edge, running as if preparing to fly, the world a blur under his feet. A flash of silver; Riku had caught up. He smiled, laughing silently to save the precious air, and pushed.

And the world dissolved into flashes of light and exhilaration.

He was so happy he just might be able to fly, he thought breathlessly, tagging the dock and whirling around in one practiced move.

He collapsed onto the beach, sprawling on the warm, gritty sands. A few moments later, Riku did the same. "Nice," Riku managed after a few gasping breaths. Riku's competitive streak took other's victories in stride; defeat was often just yet another reason to get better, to be the very best.

Sora laid in the sand, heart hammering faster than some might think possible, and thought that he could not be happier if he tried.

* * *

Ventus laid in the sand, heart hammering faster than some might think possible, and thought that he could not be happier if he tried.

* * *

"Well, Sora seems to be just fine now," the doctor said, standing. "His heart rate is certainly back to normal."

"He's not here right now," Sora muttered, swinging his legs and thinking hard about the wind. "He always goes to sleep in the boring bits."

But no one heard him; Doctor Sanders was busy cleaning up, and his mother was busy thanking Doctor Sanders for his time. The moment slipped away.

Perhaps his mother was paying more attention than he thought, for she knelt down beside him as they left. "Sora, you said he wasn't here right now. What did you mean?"

Sora blinked, thinking back over the past few minutes of conversation, trying to recall saying anything of that nature. "Nothing?" he said. He frowned. "I really don't know what you mean," he continued with honest confusion, then brightened. "Hey, Kairi said she's meet me on the beach after lunch. Can I go over now?"

His mother ruffled his hair fondly, easily dismissing the shadow of foretelling whispering unheeded in her mind. "Go ahead. Remember Padi's coming over for dinner, so get the sand out of your clothes before you come in."

Sora beamed. "I will!" He dashed off, his feet a blur of excited motion.

Behind him, the wind stirred.

* * *

Ventus had to be very, very careful, now; Sora and he were far more connected than he had hoped. He had kept mostly out of Sora's life, only lending him the occasional memory or skill (the two of them loved to run, and Ventus' speed together with with Sora's exhilaration was an addictive delight), but Sora's heart was strong enough to take even that and turn it into an unbreakable bond.

The simple truth of the matter was that Sora and Ventus were far too close together. Ventus had become such a fixture in Sora's life that when Ventus was awake, their hearts were nearly one, and when Ventus was asleep, the part of Sora - and everyone else - that knew about Ventus fell asleep with him. Such bonds, if left unfettered, would soon make it impossible for Ventus to ever return to his own body.

So with great and painful regret, he dug deep into the recesses of his heart, putting as much distance between Sora and him as was possible without hurting them both, and slid deep, deep down into sleep.

Even then, Ventus underestimated their connection.

* * *

Sora yelled, nearly screamed. "Are you okay?" Kairi asked, looking up from her sandcastle. It was strangely shaped, full of odd twists and turns, everything like something, but nothing like anything from Destiny Islands.

"I -" Sora said, catching his breath. "I felt like my heart was breaking."

Kairi tilted her head. "Do you like me that much?" she asked teasingly. Sora spluttered, floundering for an answer, any answer, and the pain eased.

He never told anyone that his heart had literally broken in two, that his memories of his childhood seemed sometimes hazy, and all memories, from that day forward, never felt quite as secure.

* * *

 _Hey,_ Ventus heard, an echoing voice deep amid his slumber. _I miss you._

 _I miss you too, Sora,_ he thought, _but it's not safe for me to be as close anymore._

 _It's okay,_ Sora said, bright and comforting even amidst his confusion. _Just so long as you're okay._

Ventus stirred, briefly, and examined his heart. It was nearly whole. _Soon,_ he promised. _Soon, I will be._

* * *

Sora looked despondently at the half-floating raft. "I don't think it can hold itself up, let alone all three of us."

Riku laughed. "Given' up already?"

"No," Sora said gloomily, "but it might not matter."

"Well," Kairi said, hesitant, "is that - is that a terrible thing? To not go?"

"What do your mean, not go?" Riku demanded, turning on her. "Isn't this what we've spent our whole lives preparing for?"

Kairi swallowed. "I guess," she said. "It's just - who knows what's out there? What if there's terrible things in the outside world?"

Sora tilted his head. "Hey, Kairi, can I see your charm?"

Kairi carefully fished the old, fragile, half-broken star out of her pocket. Sora smiled, carefully laying his hand over it. "Remember when you made this, when we said it's what binds us together?" he asked. Kairi nodded. "Then we'll be fine, right?" he continued cheerfully. "We'll still be together, no matter where we go."

Riku stretched out on the sand. "Yeah," he said, with a quiet intensity that had only grown over the years, "and we'll keep you safe."

"All right," Kairi said, reassured but still doubtful. She paused. "Hey, is the sail supposed to be doing that?"

It was not. Sora yelped, Riku groaned, and everyone sprang to their feet. Riku cut the ropes attaching the sail to the mast while Sora and Kairi struggled to keep the heavy canvas from sinking further into the water, then everyone dragged the waterlogged sail onto the sand to dry.

"That'll take the rest of the day to dry out," Sora said dejectedly.

"What should we do for now?" Kairi asked.

Sora and Riku exchanged a glance and Kairi giggled. "Okay. I should have guessed. On my count!"

And they were off, racing at breakneck speed around the island.

Sora pushed himself to the limit, breath harsh and fast. It was fast, but not quite fast enough. Slowly, far too quickly, Riku pulled ahead. Sora reached deep, deep inside himself, willing himself on. His mind caught against something just - out of - reach and . . .

"I win!" Riku crowed as the two of them skidded to a stop in front of Kairi.

Sora grabbed the strange feeling and jolted, feeling his heart beat double in his chest as it hadn't for quite some time. _Hey,_ he thought amid a flood of forgotten memories. _I miss you._

* * *

Riku looked out across the wide, deep ocean. "Soon," he whispered. "Soon we'll be ready."

* * *

 **This is a little complicated, so I'll quickly go over what this chapter meant. Sora and Ventus' hearts are so enmeshed that Sora is half Ventus when Ventus is awake or close to awake, and when Ventus is deep asleep, Sora has no memory of Ventus' existence, more or less, though he does occasionally half-remember around the edges, as the doctor's office proved. At this point, Ventus deliberately distanced himself from Sora because the situation was getting dangerously close to two personalities with essentially the same heart, which is why Sora has no memory of Ventus come KH1.**


	11. Beginnings

Sora paused. Kairi lounged on the nearly completed raft, an old-yet-new object in her hands - a brand new thalassa charm, to newly bind them together on their new journey. He grinned; seeing the charm brought back a flood of warm, hazy memories from simpler times. Sora listened happily as Kairi recounted the old sailor's legend, for him, a necessary component in the making of any true thalassa charm. Squinting, he examined the half-finished result; just for a moment, the pink shells had seemed green glass.

(Just for a moment, one startled, longing moment, his heart again beat double. He gasped. _Ven?_ A soaring crash of memories. This was...this was the first time he had remembered Ven's name in quite a while.

 _Something's coming,_ came the uneasy reply. _Something huge._ )

"Off in another daydream?" Kairi asked lightly, her eyes firmly fixed on her half assembled creation.

Sora grimaced and laughed, the matter forgotten. "Yeah."

* * *

His dreams were fragmented and sharp. Sunsets. The seashore. A star charm, now his Wayfinder. Creeping darkness on the near horizon.

Ventus stirred uneasily.

* * *

Sora glanced up at Kairi as she approached the shore. "A storm's coming," he said over the quiet roar of wind.

"Mm-hm," Kairi said, squinting at the rolling ocean. "Let's check to make sure the raft's safe. I would hate for it to blow away now."

"Sora!" his mother called from the house. "Sora, come inside!"

Sora groaned. "I have to go. We'll row back to the Play Island to check the knots on the raft later. The storm probably won't be too bad, anyways."

* * *

Thunder cracked as Riku dragged the old, forgotten door open. Immediately, the storm intensified tenfold.

* * *

Riku stood tall as darkness and rain fell with increasing intensity. He had spend so long living in a dream, a dream of traveling to the stars and visiting other worlds. It had seemed perfectly logical as a child ( _Hey - did you come from the outside world?_ ) but now, the reality he imagined and the reality he saw seemed to drift farther apart every day, a rift driven by school and a shrinking world and the dull reality of everyday life, pressing down on him like a cold weight until his dreams sometimes faltered and cracked under the weight of the unremarkable, undeniable reality of things.

He never gave up hope, though, and now the wild darkness ripping across the surface of the sky was the last shred of proof he needed to step fully into the reality of his dreams. Everything they had hoped and waited for, everything he had watched for in the silent night sky, everything that had always been nothing until now, was true and strong and _here_. The darkness had come to set him free, and he would never turn back. Riku stood immovable as the dark storm raged behind and across and around him, and prepared to face the unknown.

The storm increased in intensity, dark-driven waves rearing up to crash against the unyielding shore. Above him, the darkness coalesced into a cracking ball of thunder and dark, black power. Riku stood beneath it, savoring the release from a world where dreams meant nothing more than stories, and waited. He was ready to go this instant, but he had promised Sora long ago that they would go together, and he did not easily break his promises. He was unconcerned; Sora would soon be summoned by the dark storm. And Kairi - he had promised to keep her safe. He dearly hoped she would come quickly, if she was still planning on coming.

After an eternity Sora appeared, and Riku breathed a sigh of exulted relief. It was finally time to go.

"Once we step through, we might not be able to come back," he told Sora over the wind and screaming storm. "We may never see our parents again. There's no turning back."

* * *

"Sora, dinner's ready. Come on down. Sora?" She frowned; he should be running down the stairs by now, but there was nothing. The house was silent.

Sora was sometimes quiet, but never silent.

She walked slowly up the stairs, trying to dismiss the terrible twisting in her stomach. She opened his door. Messy room, unmade bed. No Sora.

Lighting flashed through the half-open window, heralding a storm of dangerous proportions. Below, the ocean roiled and turned and crashed against the docks, and a massive, dark orb spat lightning down on the Play Island. With a sinking heart and terrible, desperate fear, she realized where Sora must be.

She flew out the door, heading for the docks; before she made it halfway there, a thundering wave of darkness overcame her and everything went black.

* * *

"I'm not afraid of the darkness!" Riku said confidently, reaching out to Sora as the massive orb overhead spat black lightening. Sora lunged forward, but shadows tangled at his feet, constraining, constricting, choking. Something inside Sora hovered, tingling expectantly. It swelled greater and greater and then -

Riku disappeared in a gut-jerking swirl of darkness, and bright light flared. With a strange tug, a foreign object appeared in his hands. _Keyblade_ , something whispered silently. _Keyblade_.

He paused, then turned and ran. _The door has opened,_ Riku had said, a haunting echo of the stranger's words. _This world had been connected,_ the darkness whispered from behind as harsh wind ripped around him, urging him on. "Kairi," he gasped.

* * *

Ventus startled, dragged violently awake. Darkness wreathed Sora, and Ventus felt the first glimmer of the Keyblade's power stir in response. The darkness, thickened, gathered -

Yet the Keyblade would not come. Ventus summoned his own keyblade with a white snap of power and examined the few cracks still remaining. Sora Inherited a cracked keyblade, and he must not be strong enough to summon a fragmented blade into existence - yet. Instead, with a wrenching pull, a different keyblade materialized from somewhere nearby. Sora gasped and bolted for the secret place, his heart hammering double, then triple.

As Sora's heart flared, another person abruptly appeared in the quiet recesses of Sora's heart. Ventus dragged himself painfully and properly awake, then, and blinked; it was Kairi.

"Hello?" he said uncertainly, piercingly aware of his ten years of isolation. Conversation seemed exhausting, and he could already feel himself falling back asleep, despite the desperate need to stay awake.

Kairi gasped, turning. "Who are you?" she asked, a slight quaver in her voice. "Where are we?"

"This is -" Ventus started, and paused, unsure how to explain. He clutched his wayfinder, the sharp edges biting his skin and forcing him to remain awake. "Something must have happened," he said, an unnecessary statement, really. This world was falling to darkness, and he could do nearly nothing. He could barely even stay awake. "We're inside Sora. He's protecting us. I'm Ven."

Kairi took a deep breath, visibly struggling to relax. "Alright."

"You can - you can sleep," Ventus told her through a grudging, splitting yawn. "It passes the time. It's safe here."

Kairi blinked, and Ventus watched with distracted fascination as she peered through Sora's eyes as he had been doing for so many years. It was strange to see another do what had become second nature to him. "No," Kairi said, "no, I want to stay awake and try to help Sora."

Ventus nodded, exhaustion already dragging his consciousness deeper into slumber. "Make sure he stays safe," he managed, his words already sleepy and slurring. _Not now!_ he wanted to shout. _Not when Sora needs me!_ But he was already drifting away. With the last of his strength, he threw his dreams and heart into Sora's life to watch and protect the boy plunging deep into worlds of darkness. Pressing his hand to his heart, he poured knowledge into his deep connection with Sora; his skills and experience, particularly with the keyblade, slowly filtered into Sora's mind and quietly strengthened the boy who just might be able to save them all.

And so he fell asleep for the final time.

* * *

Sora drifted, unsteady, unaware, in a sea of roiling darkness. Time slipped past him, thick and unwieldy, until he was no longer sure what it had once meant.

Darkness nearly claimed him, then.

A sphere of light, cracked, broken, and nearly whole, burst into life before him. ( _Keyblade_ , whispered the silent voice. _X-blade_ ). A fragment of memory stirred.

 _I heard your voice. It cut through the darkness around me._

 _I followed the sound into a sea of light, and found myself here - with you._

That's right. I am - I was -

\- I am Sora. He is -

\- he is my friend.

So he followed the sphere into a sea of light. Time slammed into him and he collapsed, unconscious, against a sturdy brick wall.

* * *

He dreamed that Sora blinked awake. "What a dream," Sora mumbled, then started. "This isn't a dream! Where am I? Oh, boy..."

 _I'm here,_ Ventus assured silently, from deep within dreams. _It's alright._

 _This is a dream, and this is real. I will protect you and guard you with my light so long as our paths are joined. I'm here, Sora, and we're going to be fine._

They set off.

* * *

She awoke an unimaginable time later, aching as though she had been ripped apart and pieced back together. She paused, memories hazy, before stumbling again towards the empty docks. "Sora," she whispered, hoping against hope, but the hidden part of her already knew. Sora was gone.

The ocean was cool and calm. It lapped at the shore gently, methodically, as though it had not a care in the world.  
On its tide floated the broken pieces of what had once been the children's raft.

* * *

"You comin', Sora?" Goofy called from farther ahead. Sora took a deep breath, pressing a hand to his faint double heartbeat. It stirred memories of younger years, of when he would stand invincible on the crest of the windswept hills, the breeze stirring his hair in an achingly unforgettable way. It reminded him, ever so briefly, of his quiet guardian, so kind and wise and tired. It assured him that he was going to be fine, strengthening his heart and giving him courage to go ever on.

The feeling was different now, brighter and sharper, but the familiar comfort in the strange worlds of people (nothing and everything like they had ever dreamed) gave him strength beyond measure. "Yeah!" he called back to Goofy, and ran to catch up.

His heart pounded hard and fast as he reached his friends, gasping and smiling.

The wind, smelling of ocean breeze and sandy shores and all the things this world was not, rippled along behind him.

* * *

 **To clarify, the heart Sora feels at the end is Kairi's, as Ventus is solidly asleep in the final, exhausting stages of recovery, though he's tied his dreams to Sora.**


	12. Epilogue

When one truly, deeply forgets, they forget that they've forgotten anything.

This held true for Sora's mother. The only unusual thing about this time was that shower of falling stars and the peculiar dream of a boy stepping into a lotus-shaped machine.

This was perhaps a mercy; she forgot the agonizing, heart wrenching months after Sora disappeared, lost to a thunderous sea. But perhaps it was no mercy, for what is a mother whose lost their child? What mother _forgets_ their child?

Kairi had come back, but Riku had not, and there were shadows in the young woman's eye that warned against asking all the questions that pressed on her heart. There was an unknown urgency, a forgotten pain, but she had lived on the edge of knowledge her whole life and supposed this was no different.

Kairi disappeared again, and somehow, it came as no surprise. She had come to them as a child in a falling star, and had left just as abruptly. She returned, last time, in a dazzling shower of falling stars, and there was something of her nature that breathed of stardust and veiled purposes. Kairi was not an Island child; she was made of something else. When she disappeared this time, it was with the distinct ache of someone who loved the Islands but didn't belong.

So there was no one there, no one else at all who had an inking of what was going on, when memory snapped back into agonizing place at the sight of the shell-stars the children made on the beaches, and the woman who had forgotten she was a mother grieved her lost son. He would have been sixteen. She remembered when he had been six - sea stars and sand, aches and scrapes and laughter, starlight and sunlight and bright, aching sorrow.

But Sora was made of stardust, too, now, and he came back to her on the inbound tide, laugher and tears and newfound, well-worn confidence in his eyes. He was tall, and courageous, and covered in far, far too many scars.

He had changed. All of them had. Riku moved in shadows better than he moved in daylight, and seemed simultaneously awkward and lethally graceful in his own skin. Kairi drew and drew and drew, creating deceptively colorful art that lay at sharp odds with her portraits of looming, foreign architecture populated by inhuman silhouettes. And Sora, when she turned around, could have been someone completely different - a taller boy, a sadder boy, hidden in the shadows of Sora's bright demeanor.

When she smoothed his hair now, he didn't dodge playfully, but instead quietly leaned into the touch. It was devastating, in a way she couldn't quite articulate.

He came to her, just as she was beginning to realize that her son was really here, really home, with a glass bottle and an aching, regretful determination. "Mom," he whispered. The bottom edges of his pants were drenched; he must have been wading in the ocean again. "Mom, I've got to leave."

It took all of her self control to not immediately forbid it; no matter how old his eyes were, he was still her teenage son, and she would not send him back to that land which tore at his body with scars. But Sora was not the only person she had forgotten, nor was he the only person she now remembered.

(Two boys, so connected that to forget the one was to forget the other. One heart in two bodies, or perhaps the other way around.)

His voice, the voice of the other, forgotten boy, the tired one that ached with sorrow, echoed in her mind - she would bet all her money that he, too, bore deeper scars than most - and said _Sora is a very special person...and someday the worlds are going to need him._

So she let Sora speak. He started stumblingly, hesitant and unsure, but gained confidence in the retelling. There were world out there beyond imagining, and dear friends whose lives were threatened by rapidly falling darkness. He was going back to save his friends. His love and loyalty would allow nothing less.

He had already died to save his friends, and he might very well do so again.

Right then, she wished she haven't taught him about sacrifice quite so well.

That had been three weeks ago. Sora had left, trailing starlight and shadows in his wake, and she had stayed.

She had an astonishing amount of answers, now, far more than she ever dreamed. Her mind was ringing with all the truth she had spent years trying to come to terms with, and everything was whirling with newfound, terrifying grandeur.

But she didn't have Sora, her beloved, bright son, and it seemed a poor trade.

"I'll be back," Sora had told her, with depth that he hadn't possessed in the time before he had left the Islands (just as he always said he would). "I _promise_. I-" Sora said, with a shade of awkward sincerity she hadn't heard from him in years, "- I made this for you." He held out one of the shell charms the children had been so fond of making in their earlier years, now constructed with adult grace and skill. The sight brought still-returning memories flooding back, threatening to drown her, but she took and clung to the painted charm regardless.

"It's a promise," Sora said softly. "I made the same promise to Kairi. I'll always find my way back to you."

Now, she stood watching the ocean waves crash against the Play Island, the last place she had seen Sora and Riku, and now Kairi, before they left for the outside worlds.

She held the green charm tight. _I'll always find my way back to you._

She would hold him to that.

* * *

 _Thinking of you, wherever you are._

* * *

 _S_ ometimes, in his search for Riku, Sora dreamed he was back on the island, young and carefree. Those dreams were always unsettling - there was something fragile in the way he had always assumed his childhood would last forever.

It hadn't.

He wondered if his mother still wondered where he was, or if she had given up hope by now. She had never believed them when they told her they were going to the outside worlds. He hasn't believed himself, nearly, until he woke up with his world destroyed.

Now, to his relief and dismay, his dreams were different. Gone were visions of home; now, the foreign-familiar shape of Castle Oblivion loomed large in his dreams, despite the fact that they had only spent what felt like a few hours there. (It had been longer. Far longer. According to Jiminy's estimate, it had been over a year. Even that - horrifyingly long as it was - seemed to rather underestimate things, though Sora could not understand why, no matter how much he strained for the answers.)

He dreamed of a white room, chains of gray light running serenely up its sides. He dreamed he was trapped, then freed, then dreamed of the Islands and three young children full of light -

He dreamed he was asleep. What a useless dream - it dragged at his attention, even when he knew he had to focus on the Organization and their prodding, manipulative games. When he knew that they would freely overturn the safety of the worlds that had cost him so much and trapped Riku in eternal darkness.

He couldn't - he wouldn't - allow them to succeed.

Still, he kept waking up to dreams of heartbreaking sorrow, frantically grabbing at the fragments before they faded, always reaching, never grasping what knew, bone-deep, was so very, very important. Goofy thought they were nightmares, and Donald thought they were silly. He had tried to explain, he really had, but gave up after realizing he had no idea what he was trying to explain.

Sometimes, he thought the dreams were memories. Sometimes, he thought his memories were only dreams.

Reality spun onward; Sora wondered if and when he had fallen off it.

Still, he reached. One day - one wonderful, terrible day - he would understand why.

* * *

 _A forgotten_ _dream that's like a far off memory. A far off memory that's like a forgotten dream. I want to line the pieces up . . . yours and mine._

* * *

Ventus had been asleep for a long time.

A very, very long time.

Far longer than twelve years.

He still dreamed, sometimes. Often. Faraway towns, glimpses of faces his heart remembered, but his mind could not. Almost a memory - _he was - I was -_

-and then it was gone.

Because Ventus has a life before the Land of Departure. Ventus had a life, had once been Vanitas, and before that - he had once been himself, the keyblade apprentice, the learner, the blinding brightdark, shadow in the sunlight, beacon in the dark night, survivor, leader, warrior, and he remembered it in dreams.

Just because he refused to give in to his darkness didn't mean it wasn't part of him.

( _Just because he refused to give in to his light,_ the shadows murmured longingly, from a long ways off, from right beside him, _didn't mean it wasn't part of him._ )

Ventus has been asleep for twelve years, but his true self, his complete self, had been asleep much longer.

Now that he was asleep, he nearly remembered it.

One thing he did know. One thing he held onto, through the blinding light of Kairi and the murky shadows of Organization XII, through the pain of Nobody, then Somebody, then himself, his reflection brightdark in the endless cavern of dreams.

He knew that he was waking up.

His dreams drifted no longer. They pointed incessantly toward what Sora had forgotten and what Ventus' dreams remembered.

 _White stone, cradling darkness. Dark realms, cradling light._

Ventus dreamed of Castle Oblivion.

And, after a time, so did Sora.

Dreams weren't supposed to make sense, but Ventus thought this might be the rare sort of dream that made more sense once he woke from it. His dreams had shown him the oblivion, then shown him past it to the life beyond. Now, his waking would show him what was next.

His memory fluttered, uncertain, agitated, between dreams of keys and kingdoms, and dreams of dearly beloved ocean children that grew up far too quickly. With a sigh, he scooped both up into his arms, both valued, both equally precious.

 _This is me,_ he said, looking upward with his armful of memories. _The light, the brightdark, the broken, the reborn._

Clouds tugged at the edges of his memories. Above him, the sky cleared.

Ventus stood quietly in the faint, steady light of Kingdom Hearts.

* * *

 _Don't assume your dreams are just fantasy. If you can imagine a world, believe in it . . . and dive in._

* * *

Ventus dreamed he opened his eyes, yawning hugely. He felt more himself than he had in ... in ever. _So this is what wholeness feels like,_ he thought, _or at least a part of it_.

It was exhilarating. It was comforting. It was home.

"Hey, Ven," Sora said from behind him, tall and strong and not nearly so young anymore. "I've _missed_ you. I'm really, truly sorry I forgot about you for so long."

Ventus shook his head, clearing the last of the sleepy, broken fog from his mind. "You were meant to." He looked around, taking in the familiar blue platform. "I'm not really awake yet, am I?"

"No," Sora said, radiating fierce compassion and hope, "not yet, but almost."

* * *

 _Everything is coming back to me, the true . . ._

* * *

She dreamed of a battle for the fate of the universe.

* * *

 _There is always sleep between part and meet,_

 _With our usual words on the usual street._

 _So let us part like we always do,_

 _And in a world without you, I'll dream of you._

 _When I come to, let us meet_

 _With our usual words on the usual street._

* * *

 ***Deep breath.* It's a wrap! After two years, this story is finally done.**

 **There's a few final things. First, thank you so much to everybody who has read, reviewed, and generally stuck around for this story. It means the world to me.**

 **Second, as I've just mentioned, I started writing this a little over two years ago. Long story short, I've spent the past few months rewriting good portions of this story. Plotwise, nothing changed massively. Writing-wise, though, I feel the new chapters are much better. Go take a look, if you want. (If you do, know that chapters 4-9 definitely have the most significant changes.)**

 **Third, I've just posted the standalone oneshot sequel to this, which is called** _ **Waking Hearts**_ **and is set near the end of DDD. It's pretty loosely related, granted, but it's there if you're interested. There's also a stand-alone prequel oneshot posted a few years ago about Sora's mother and Sora as a baby called** _ **A Name of Legend.**_

 **Fourth (last thing, I promise!), KH3, which I am dearly excited for, may quite well come along and change our understanding of Sora and Ventus' relationship. If the differences between this story and KH3 are not too huge, I'll come back after KH3 to tweak this story so it lines up with KH3. If it's dramatically different, then this is just going to stand as a pre-KH3 piece of fanfiction.**

 **Thank you again to everyone reading this! It's been a wonderful ride.**


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